


Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens

by EirinnGoBragh12



Series: Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens [1]
Category: Backstrom (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 17:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EirinnGoBragh12/pseuds/EirinnGoBragh12
Summary: A reworking of Dante Trippi's blackmail methods, Valentines' protective qualities, and of course the beginning of Peter/Valentine relationship. Trippi doesn't make deals, he blackmails, threatens and controls. Peter is heterosexual, probably. Valentine is irresistible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments, they nurture my soul. :)

Gregory Valentine kept his head down as he grabbed the bottle of wine. The barge was normally warm enough, but with Dante Trippi occupying one of the chairs Valentine felt nothing but a chill in the air. Trippi seemed at ease. After their last encounter, when Valentine had been underselling Trippi with electronics, Valentine felt that it could be a good sign that Trippi hadn’t pounced and broken Valentine’s jaw upon entry. Valentine’s pulse still quickened, and he scanned the barge, a statue he could hurl at Trippi, he wasn’t far from the knife drawer, but Trippi was bigger and stronger, a knife could just as easily be confiscated and used against Valentine. Val breathed into his hands to warm them up, and noticed that his shirt covering half his palms was all black. If Trippi did intend to kill him, it seemed apropos that when a strapping EMT loaded his beautiful and perfect corpse onto a gurney, and wheeled him out of the barge, at least he’d be dressed for his own funeral. 

Valentine eventually uncorked the wine, his shaky hands slowing his progress, he listened for sounds of Trippi pulling a gun, or becoming violent, but so far Trippi sat patiently at Valentine and Backstrom’s dining room table, waiting for a sample of the wine. Valentine grabbed a glass, and noted that his hands shook a little, because of the cold, he told himself. Valentine breathed slowly through his nose, and turned on the charm. A small bounce in his step as he returned with a glass and uncorked wine. “It’s counterfeit,” Val explained right away, “but you can see the red dust gives it an aged look, and Val turned the bottle to show off the label,” you can’t tell that it was steamed off another bottle and reapplied.” 

Trippi nodded, and tasted the wine. “It’s good though,” Trippi remarked. 

“Only a handful of sommeliers can probably tell the difference. Most of my clients who buy the wine are going to put it in a cellar, and I’ll probably be dead by the time their great great grandkids get around to actually opening it,” Val slightly winced at bringing up his own death, too care free, gotta dial it back.

“I think this is going to work,” Trippi nodded. “Who are you selling to?”

 

“I network through people, no where near Broad Street and 8th,” Val offered, “learned my lesson,” he said with a nervous laugh. Val remembered the lesson well, Trippi grabbing him from behind and putting Val face first into a concrete wall, followed by two painful punches to his back, and someone stomping on his leg. Perhaps if Trippi hadn’t started with a head injury, Val wouldn’t have been stupid enough to fight back. Years of living on the street and a 3 day abduction that left Valentine with physical and psychological scars had perfected Valentine’s reflexes. Val hadn’t realized it was Trippi, he thought he was getting mugged, or assaulted. He’d kicked off the wall, blood dripping into his eyes, and lashed out, elbowing his attacker in the face, and when Trippi went down, Val kicked him in the mouth, saw him bite through his tongue. Val recognized Trippi then, and with wide eyes, attempted to back off, and offer an apology, but Trippi recovered surprisingly fast. Val remembered three punches, before he saw the blessed lights of the Portland PD. They’d pulled Trippi off, and stuck Val in the back of a police car. Val saw them wheel Trippi into an ambulance, there was so much blood. Not enough to kill Trippi, but enough to get Val killed. Val convinced himself, in the back of the police car, that the tears running down his face were from shock, not because he’s weak. 

Val realized he’d zoned out on the memory as Trippi waved his hand slightly in front of Val. “Seems we both learned a lesson that day,” Trippi stood and Val instinctively moved back. Trippi followed him slowly across the small kitchen until Val’s back was to a wall. To anyone watching Val was cowering, and that was definitely true, but it also placed Val very close to a baseball bat Backstrom kept hidden behind a bookshelf, and also next to a rather sharp and heavy decorative hook. Never give up until it’s over. Find an edge, escape if you can, endure it if you can’t, live another day. “You should be scared, but if I wanted you dead, you would be.” Trippi said.

“Yes,” Val breathed out, back pressed firmly to the wall, hands in front of him. “So obviously there is something I can do for you,” Val offered hands held out, palms up, non threatening in every way. 

“I’ve heard your a man of many talents,” Trippi said.

Val recoiled internally, it often came down to sex. Val was a versatile criminal, but his days of hustling never left him. Trippi would be well aware of Valentine’s reputation, but even people not in the know could tell. Val had been propositioned in the men’s room of a club just last week. Sometimes when he was just walking to catch buses, or in between gigs, cars would slow down and older affluent gentlemen would offer him a ride. Something about being a hustler left an invisible brand on him, an aura of sex for sale. It wasn’t particularly offensive, Val was young, beautiful, and horny, but he had given up hustling a long time ago for new pursuits. Now the sex he had was for enjoyment and pleasure. “What have you heard,” Val asked swallowing, the thought of providing sexual services for Trippi was repulsive. Val could do it, he could sex anyone. Hustlers always had a secret part of their brain they could disappear to when they had to turn a trick they didn’t like. Val couldn’t even honestly say he hadn’t serviced someone who had beaten him up before, sometimes that’s what they paid for, but Trippi was different.

Trippi was big and mean, and had bought passage onto the barge with a single sheet of paper threatening Backstrom. If Backstorm even knew Trippi was on the boat… Val’s mind flashed to Backstrom climbing into the back of the ambulance with Trippi, Officer Moto closing the door so they could have privacy, and then Backstrom threatening Trippi if he came near Val again. It was smart to close the door, but they should have kicked the EMT driver out. Threatening people wasn’t Backstrom’s usual MO so one had to forgive his lack of foresight. Val could see the sworn statement with the deep blue notary seal, the EMT driver would testify that Backstrom had gone into the ambulance and attacked Trippi, partially true, but then it went on to say that Backstrom broke Trippi’s jaw and pistol whipped him. Val had broken Trippi’s jaw and while Backstrom had threatened Trippi, the EMT’s statements were greatly embellished. Backstrom would get kicked off the force. Backstrom was finally alive again after five years in the traffic division. Val knew it would kill him to return to traffic or be kicked off the force all together.

“I’m not a fag,” Trippi said, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t want to fuck you.” Val tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, but he felt himself relax a bit. He would have done it, of course, but he’d rather not. “I heard you are good at locating opportunities.” Val smiled.

“I get around, and keep my eye out for ways to make money,” Val confirmed. 

“I’m taking the wine business over. You’re still going to get the crate off the boat and then bury it in the woods for me. Obviously, you’ll get a much smaller fee for your reduced role.” Val’s nostrils flared and anger almost made him do something stupid, but Trippi wasn’t here to make a deal. Trippi didn’t make deals, he blackmailed. That Trippi was going to give him anything was a small miracle. 

“Of course,” Valentine said, shrugging. “It seems fair.”

“I spent some time considering it, I was going to kill you and your boyfriend,” Trippi said with a shrug. Val licked his lips nervously, it was good that Trippi didn’t know that Val and Backstrom were brothers. Let him think that Backstrom was some kind of sugar daddy.

“And you’ve decided not to,” Val said with raised eyebrows, keeping his breathing even. 

“You’re quite resourceful, and you have a lot of connections. A lot of great business ideas.” Val eyed Trippi warily, he doubted this was supposed to be complimentary. 

“If people hear about us working together, my reputation is going to suffer because of your little stunt,” Trippi said. Val winced at the idea that breaking Trippi’s jaw and causing him to bite through his tongue was a ‘little stunt’. “We’re going to have to do something about that so other people don’t think it’s a good idea to kick me in the face.” Val had images of Trippi dropping Val to the ground and stomping his face in. 

“What do you have in mind?” Valentine asked, his throat suddenly dry, he backed into the wall again and splayed his hands for support, while secretly inching closer to the bat. 

“You hurt my jaw and tongue,” Trippi said, his hand cupping Val’s cheek, “I think it’s only fair if I hurt yours.” Val tried to laugh nervously and lean further down, the bat was almost in reach. Trippi pressed his fully body weight against Val, and his hand snaked up to Val’s hair, pulling roughly. Val twisted, as Trippi forced him to look up at the bigger man. 

“I’m really sorry,” Val started, his eyes darting wildly, as Trippi tilted Val’s head painfully, Val could see there was a calm rage brewing in Trippi’s eyes. Val had seen similar looks, and whatever Trippi had in mind it wasn’t going to be a light slap on the wrist and discounted work. 

“We are well past ‘I’m really sorry’,” Trippi said. He released Val and backed up a foot. “Show me,” he said. Val looked out from behind his lashes, not sure of Trippi’s meaning. Trippi pointed to the floor, “on your knees.” 

Val said,not trying to be particularly confrontational, panic was making his brain trail a little behind the conversation as he blurted out “But you’re not a fag.” 

“But you are,” Trippi, lashed out, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanked forward and down so violently Val crashed to the floor on his knees, and sent dining room chairs skittering out of the way. Trippi put a knee into Val’s back, as he yanked on Val’s hair, the angle was painful. Trippi’s mouth was right at his ear, “and people are going to know that you work for me. If I say jump you say how high, if I send you to run an errand, you better fucking run, and if I want someone to suck my dick you better drop to the floor a hell of a lot faster than you just did,” Trippi said. He released Val’s hair, and shoved Val forward with his knee.

Val went stiff, arms at his side, tried to be still, as if he could hide in plain sight. His heart hammered in his chest violently, and he worked to steady himself. Panic might make him do something stupid like fight back. If Trippi wanted him dead, Val would be. Trippi obviously wanted something that he intended Val to live through, and if he lived, he could reassess then. Find an edge, escape if you can, endure if you can’t, then get away. Val resolved himself, and stared blankly ahead, he would do what he had to to survive.

Trippi wasn’t the first person who just wanted to use sex as a way to dominate someone, it normally wasn’t personally directed at Val. As a hustler Val had stood in place for a lot of people’s fantasy domination over another, a wife, a husband, a boss, a coworker, sometimes a parent, but usually it wasn’t about Valentine directly. Val’s hands hung at his sides. “You actually don’t seem very good at this,” Trippi remarked, and he gestured to his waist band. 

Val resigned himself, and his hands flew to the belt on Trippi’s waist. Find an edge, escape if you can, endure it if you can’t, live another day. Val’s mantra played in his head, as he retreated into that part of his brain that kept him sane. The mechanics of a blow job were relatively simple, hustlers learned to make a ‘trick come quick’ as the saying goes, same money less time. For hustlers, it was volume over time to get to profit. Trippi’s dick was unremarkable, neither large nor small, there was nothing inherently unattractive about it except the man it belonged to. Trippi obviously didn’t believe in manscaping, but it should be a relatively easy blow, and it was better than getting stomped in the mouth. Trippi for his part seemed disinterested as well, the effort wasn’t entirely unappreciated, but Trippi wasn’t lost in the passion. Val was fairly certain it would be over quick as he used two hands and one tongue like a pro to get Trippi to orgasm. Trippi grabbed him by the hair again, but not at the height of climax like Val anticipated, instead Trippi slowed him down, placing another hand painfully on Val’s jaw. Val felt the pressure and was a little concerned Trippi meant to break it after all. 

“Not so fast Rent Boy, I told you I’m not a fag, and Trippi yanked hard, thrusting at a hard angle too deep, and awkward. It really did hurt Val’s jaw, and cause him to gag, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t pleasurable for Trippi either. Val focused on breathing, he certainly wasn’t going to bite down or do anything to injure another part of Trippi, unless it would definitely kill Trippi. Trippi continued to thrust at the odd angle, squeezing Val’s jaw with the other hand, and only seemed to smile when Val winced. Trippi withdrew grabbed Val’s collar and stood him up. He pushed Val towards the table. Val put his palms on the table, unsure if it was over or if Trippi intended to have non-fag like anal sex with him. Trippi put a hand on the back of Val’s neck, his fingers digging in. Val could feel tears trying to come, he closed his eyes, breathed deeply endure he reminded himself. 

“I want to show you something.” Trippi said, the hand like a vice on Val’s neck. Val crossed his arms.

“I don’t know if you can show me anything as impressive as you just did,” Val flirted, flatter them, fuck them, move on.... All of the things Val learned on the street were flooding back to him. He felt like he was watching from a distance, a sex robot who was suddenly brought to life. Gregory Valentine, Boutique Dealer, and businessman disappeared into his own mind, and Valentine the Hustler took over. Val was invincible, this aggressive sex was just that, and it would be over with and Val wouldn’t be touched by it, may not even remember it. Trippi dropped a picture on the table of Backstrom walking up to the barge, then another picture of Officer Moto, and Paquet standing at a crime scene, another of Gravely and Almond at the station, the last one of Niedermeyer in a car with Valentine, while Valentine was flirting uselessly. 

Val’s breath caught, and he had to return from that dark place in his mind. These pictures meant something, these people meant something to him. Trippi had a reason to show him, Val came back to himself fully, focused, and scared. Trippi breathed into his ear and whispered. “I just want you to know, you can stop working with me any time.” Val licked his lips nervously, not at all comforted by the offer, “I won’t kill you, you can always walk away, anytime, even now” Val’s breath was shallow and he stared at the photos. “If you do, I will go through all of your friends,” Trippi tapped the photos. “I will blackmail Backstrom, and his whole crew. Anyone who doesn’t comply, I will kill.” Val felt his breathing quicken and panic did blossom in his chest. 

“Why do you think you got such a good deal on those electronics that you undersold on me?” Trippi asked, “undo your pants.” Val didn’t register Trippi’s command right away. Trippi yanked his hair again, and Val’s hands flew to his own skinny jeans and began undoing them. His fingers wouldn’t move right though and he had trouble. “Why?” Trippi hissed again.

“I know a guy,” Val tried to follow the conversation, comply with Trippi’s requests, wrap his head around the danger his friends were in, ignore the fistful of hair Trippi was gripping as he pulled Val back at a painful angle, forcing Val to lean back against Trippi and against Trippi’s clearly still aroused cock. 

“You think you know a guy, that I don’t know?” Trippi asked. Val finally got his pants undone. “Lower them,” Val pushed his clothing to the floor. “Bend over until your face first in wood, again.” Val tried to move the pictures out of the way, but Trippi repositioned them so Val could see them. Val’s breathing was ragged as his cheek rested on the table, and he could see Trippi from the corner of his eye. Trippi released him for a moment and Val closed his eyes willing back tears, it had been a long time since anyone had tried to hurt him with sex. Was it rape? Coercion? It was the worst kind of sexual assault in Val’s mind. Val had of course had his fair share of being tossed onto a dirty alley floor and violated. But the worst kind of sexual assault was the kind you had to participate in, where the force was invisible, shackles others couldn't see. Val shook his head as his jaw quivered, and he threatened himself with everything he could that he would not cry, would not show weakness, just endure he shouted in his own mind. 

Val heard the tear of a condom wrapper, “I don’t know everywhere you have been, but I’ve heard of enough places that I’m concerned,” Trippi said matter of factly. Val heard Trippi grab something which he guessed to be oil that was near the stove. Val tried to close his eyes and disappear, use those brief moments of Trippi’s preparation to be as not present mentally as possible. Trippi pushed hard and deep and it did hurt. Every thrust was designed to hurt and not for either participants actual pleasure. Val had never met anyone who actually used their dick as a weapon at the sacrifice of their own pleasure. he believed that Trippi really wasn’t a fag, this was just Trippi’s way of humiliating and owning Val. Both men grunted, Trippi with the effort to cause painful thrusts, and Val with the experience of pain in each thrust. 

“Open your eyes,” Val hadn’t realized he’d closed them, but they flew open. They were glazed and Val didn’t really see anything, he registered the movement as Trippi continued to assault him and felt the pain on a physical level, but he felt detached from it. He could survive this.

“I am not interested in a rent boy,” Trippi said. “This is about learning a lesson Val, and you can’t do that if you aren’t here.” Val didn’t know how to respond. Trippi leaned into Val hard, covering him with his body, and shoving his elbow across the back of Val’s neck. It was uncomfortable and painful, but rape often was, it wasn’t enough to jar Val from his mental box. The sound of a lighter and the smell of cigarette smoke made Val jump slightly. “Sweet Gregory,” Trippi whispered, and Val was mentally slammed back into the present, hearing the phrase his abductor used to whisper to him and smelling the smoke made him panic. Val pushed back then and tried to lift himself off the table, but Trippi had him pinned without any leverage. Val still struggled, eyes wild with panic, and if he could have gotten up he would have kicked Trippi in the jaw again. Val felt the cigarette touch the exposed side of his stomach, near his ribs, Trippi pressed it again and again. Val didn’t know when he started crying, or was he sobbing? 

“There he is,” Trippi laughed as Val flailed under him, unable to do anything in his current position, except take the assault. Val howled in frustration, and banged his own head against the table. Trippi stopped burning him after a minute and just held Val with all of his weight until Val stopped bucking and trying to fight back. Val yelled in his own mind at his inability to stop crying, but he did dial back the sobbing to ragged breathing and clenched teeth. “Tired?” Trippi asked, but Val didn’t answer. “I think we are almost at an understanding. Val looked at Trippi out of the corner of his eye. 

“We’re going to need to wrap this up soon. Your boyfriend gets off work in a few hours and I don’t think he should find me here, or any evidence that I’ve been here.” Trippi said. “But I’m not sure you get it. I’m a little concerned I’ve pissed you off and made you think stupid things, like that you should fight back or plot revenge.” Val closed his eyes, and licked his lips. He couldn’t think. “I don’t know why you make me hurt you, Sweet Gregory” Trippi said. 

“I’m going to take my arm off your neck and sit up a little, so we can talk. Do you think you’re going to be stupid if I do that?” Trippi asked, and he thrust a little deeper causing Val to wince again. Val shook his head no. It’s not that he didn’t want to do anything stupid, but what could he do? Trippi eased off, still buried deep, but he was no longer laying on Val’s body, pinning him down. Val still didn’t move. Trippi took a long drag on his cigarette and Val watched wearily. “I think we can be done here if I had some sign that you really understood how important it is that you cooperate.” 

“I think I understand,” Val whispered hoarsely. 

“Make me come,” Trippi said. Val took in a ragged breath, and propped himself on his forearms on the table. He began to move, it hurt, or maybe it didn’t maybe it was just his soul that was ravaged. He knew what to do, he kept moving, and Trippi just stood still, had him do all the work. Val cried, but he didn’t make a sound, traitorous drops formed and then spilled down his face, but he did his job. “That’s it show me, come on Rent Boy. Be my fantasy, make me believe you love it.” Neither Trippi nor Valentine would buy any fantasy that Val loved this, but Valentine understood, it was about making him say it, it was about forcing Valentine to immerse himself in the concept of being fully owned and operated by Dante Trippi. Val tried to moan as if it was pleasurable. He knew he was only mildly convincing, but the goal was to humiliate him and that was obviously effective. 

Trippi withdraw suddenly from him, tossing the condom aside, and fastening his pants, cigarette dangling from his mouth. Val was pretty sure Trippi hadn’t come, but it was increasingly obvious that this power play was less about sex, and more about humiliation, domination and control. “I can’t believe you used to do that for a living, worst lay of my life.” Val didn’t move from his position on the table, he wasn’t sure what the expectation was now. “On your knees,” Trippi commanded, and Val not without some pain turned and dropped to his knees and reached for Trippi’s waist again. Trippi backhanded him in the face, “I told you I’m not a fag. Sit at the table.” Val tasted the copper of blood in his mouth, as he fastened his pants and sat at the table. Trippi walked around to stand across from him. Trippi lined up all the pictures in front of Valentine, then he put the still burning cigarette on the table between them. Bitter smoke wafted into Val’s face. “Burn your arm.” Trippi said softly. Val blinked and looked at him. “You can leave anytime Val, or tell me to stop and it will all be over, you’ll be out. Safe and free, but if you stay, you have to follow directions.” Trippi was matter of fact, and managed to be threatening in his casual tone. Val looked at his friends’ pictures, the one taken from inside the station, which means Trippi was there, or someone else who worked for him. “I don’t want to have to hurt you Sweet Gregory,” Trippi said with mock sadness. 

“Where?” Val asked grabbing the cigarette and flicking his gaze up to meet Trippi’s. 

“On your upper arm.” Val pressed the lit end of the cigarette into his flesh, it burned, and it brought up so many memories, Val felt sick. His stomach churned violently. 

“Again,” Trippi said. Val removed the cigarette and made another mark and another at Trippi’s command. At some point Val started rocking, eyes closed, tears still falling silently, but he wasn’t aware of it, only of the burning sensation and smell. “You can stop now.” Val dropped the cigarette from his arm, sucking in air, not looking at Trippi. Trippi snatched up the cigarette and continued smoking it. Val remained where he was, but he felt like his body was going to collapse. 

“Come,” Trippi said patting his leg like Val was a dog. Val followed head down, watching Trippi’s feet, until they were both standing in the bathroom. Trippi turned on the shower, and gestured for Val to get in. Val stripped under Trippi’s watchful eye. Val watched Trippi’s reaction, and noted there was no flicker of sexual interest, and yet Trippi had just violated him repeatedly. Val was pretty certain that unlike most of the men who professed not to be gay while fucking him, Trippi was very possibly not gay. Val understood why Trippi was as successful as he was, he did whatever it took to get the job done. 

Trippi stripped down and joined him which Val was not expecting. Trippi pushed Val lightly back against the shower wall, and started stroking Val’s cock. Trippi stared into his eyes and Val stared back incredulous. It went on for several minutes, and it seemed that Trippi was putting forth some effort to try to arouse him. Val remained limp, not through any intentional act of his own, but he was terrified and abused, and it would be a long damn time before he felt aroused again, and definitely not by this guy. 

“You're hard to read Rent Boy, I just wanted to be sure,” Trippi said and abruptly let go of Val. Val stayed pressed against the shower wall as Trippi turned his back on him. Val kept his eyes focused, ready for some assault or abuse. “Your hips don’t lie though, you are terrified.” Val rolled his eyes and sucked in a breath. Did that motherfucker just try to jerk him off to see if he was legitimately scared? To make sure Trippi’s assault took hold, what kind of asshole? And Val didn’t know how to finish the thought. 

“Wash my back,” Trippi said, and once again, the gears switched too fast and Val didn’t comprehend what had been said. “My voice didn’t go up at the end so you know it wasn’t a fucking request,” Trippi snapped. Val fumbled with the soap and began washing Trippi’s back. 

“You know if you tell anyone about this, you’re going to have to describe how you undressed us both, right? How you burned yourself with a cigarette, and how you bathed me afterwards right? You can clearly run Val, you can get away.” Val kept scrubbing. Trippi was right, everyone would see it that way, the restraints Trippi was using were imaginary, but no less effective. Val had the pleasure of attending two or three rape interviews before he wised up, and stopped giving statements when police officers yanked Val out from under some violent, sweaty man in a dark alley.

Val rinsed Trippi and himself off, he didn’t speak. They dressed in silence and made their way to the kitchen. There was nothing to say. Val understood. He would do what Trippi asked or the handful of people he cared about would suffer, he got it. Trippi gathered his things and prepared to leave. Valentine stood against the wall, his body protesting, exhausted, abused, ready for relief, and rest. Trippi suddenly came at him and Val instinctively backed away but there was nowhere to go on the barge. He quickly found himself pressed against the wall with Trippi staring down at him. “I read your file.” Val didn’t have to ask which one, obviously his abductors, how else would he have known about the cigarette burns and Sweet Gregory. Wayne William Piven, his abductor had also often lamented at Val that he didn’t want to have to hurt him. Endure Val reminded himself. He stared into Trippi’s eyes, willing some the defiance he felt not to shine so brightly, but it was difficult not to fight back, Val had always fought back. 

“Tell me you love me,” Trippi said, and Val choked on a sob, and tears sprang to his eyes, Trippi smiled, and he kissed Val. The same non-sexual detached, overture designed to dominate and control, not for either participants pleasure. Trippi’s tongue delved deeply inside of Val’s mouth, plunging, uncomfortable, punishing and Val relaxed his jaw and let Trippi have his way. Trippi grabbed the back of Val’s head and ground their mouths together. When he stopped, he looked annoyed “Say it Rent Boy,” Trippi said.

“I love you,” Val choked out. 

Trippi relaxed his hold and then brought his knee into Val’s stomach hard, Val dropped as the wind rushed out of his lungs, and the contents of his stomach threatened to rebel, he could feel the pre moisture saliva form in his mouth. “You fucking faggot,” Trippi said and spit on him, Val vaguely registered the spit on his face, but he was busy bracing himself with one hand, his head pressed to the floor, his other across his stomach as if it could do any good. Val moaned, and pursed his lips, swallowing hard. He was bracing himself for another kick or being stomped on, but Trippi began walking away instead.

“Let’s see how this goes for the next few months. If it’s profitable, and you do a good job, I’ll want to hear more about that cultured meat enterprise- and ‘cultured meat’ is not a euphemism for you” Trippi said over his shoulder. Trippi started up the stairs and Val remained where he was head pressed into the floor, his body shaking. Trippi stopped on the stairs, but didn’t turn back. “Don’t be stupid Val, I know it’s a rough start, but it’s much better to be with me than against me.” Trippi continued out of the barge and Val lay on the floor, his head pressed firmly to the ground. 

Val allowed the choking sobs to come then. He kept his head down, willing the dizziness to pass, and used one hand to brace himself. He would let himself cry, release, express this pain while there were no witnesses, and then he would get his shit together. For now, Val sucked in several breaths, willing his mind to stop replaying images of Trippi, replaying images of men in dark alleyways, replaying a man holding a cigarette saying he loved Val so much… Val growled in frustration as his own mind betrayed him and continued the assault. Val pounded his head against the floor a few times as if it would shake the images loose. He crawled to the counter and used it to brace himself and get up. 

Yeah, the nausea was subsiding, he stayed hunched and coincidentally eye level with a bottle of Backstrom’s pain pills. His hand shot out and grabbed it before he had actually registered the idea of getting them. He twisted the cap, sobbed at the child safety lock, and used both hands to release the pills. He dumped the entire contents in his hand, closed his eyes and raised his hand to shove them all in his mouth. “Wait!” some distant part of his brain yelled. He slumped against the counter hard, and looked at his hand. He tried to count the pills, what was a normal amount to take? How many could he take without Backstorm knowing? He put most of them back in the bottle, taking three, and washing it down with a swig from the bottle of vodka. Val wiped his mouth and breathed heavily. “Okay, Valentine, it’s over, get your shit together.” he coached himself, willing the pills to take effect quickly. He braced himself on the wall and made his way to the bathroom with the bottle of vodka. 

Val stripped as quickly as he could and collapsed, curling up on the floor as the water washed over him. Maybe he sobbed on the shower floor, but maybe he was just shivering as the hot water ran out and all the moisture causing his mascara to run was from the water washing over him, and not tears.

Val heard Backstrom enter, pound on the bathroom door, yell about the hot water. Val slipped out of the shower, and found a towel on the floor. He could hear Backstrom stumbling around, and prayed that he was blackout drunk. Val didn’t preen in front of the mirror like he normally did. Instead he bite his lip and fought back burning tears as he saw fresh angry cigarette marks on his side and upper arm. He hid in the bathroom until he heard Backstorm snoring. Val locked himself in his room, and curled up in the center of his bed. He put the bottle to his lips, fairly certain he was going to go well past the 97 calories contained in one shot and have spend the next several days doing cardio. He laughed a little hysterically at the thought of maintaining his figure, but he couldn’t drown the pain fast enough. Three pills was a big mistake, it was enough to keep him trapped in vivid nightmares but too out of it to wake up as he was haunted by images of men and harsh hands, violent rapes, and cigarettes being pressed against his flesh.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val's problem manages to solve itself, Peter has unexpected layers, and secrets surface.

Val was able to stay clear of Trippi for several months. He picked up the shipments, made the cash payments and kept his head low. He didn’t go anywhere near Trippi’s other operations and stayed well on his side of the street. Trippi for his part did not reach out to Val. Backstorm was focused on his cases, and Val drank copious amounts of vodka and took sleeping pills, and most of the time he didn’t dream. 

Val started bringing dinners to the police station, he told himself it was because he was bored or needed favors. He was adamant in his own mind that he wasn’t checking up on the team and he absolutely was not there because he felt safer with the team. Val set Chinese takeout down at several of the desks. 

“Gravely and Almond, go interview the sister again. Moto, you’re taking Paquet and I back to that rich guys house and we are going to find the stolen merchandise. He killed his mistress and I know there is a souvenir there. Paquet bring the photos of the victims closet, and if you identify any of the handbags or jewelry I might let you keep it,” Backstrom barked. 

Peter Niedermayer, the forensic expert and Sargeant on Backstrom’s team came into the bullpen, “and me sir?” he asked in his soft spoken way. 

“You,” Backstrom snapped, “Stay here and bore Valentine to death with your pointless analysis of the perp’s sad childhood,” Backstrom made a face,”and then Valentine can tell you about his sad childhood, and how he copes by screwing everything that walks and not murdering his lovers.” 

“I wasn’t suggesting Mr. Remynes motive was justified just that,” Niedermayer started to explain.

“Niedermayer, shut up!” Backstrom snapped, flipping on his poncho as the team swept out of the bullpen. Niedermayer put his hands in his pockets. Most men might have been defeated, but Peter smiled and walked over to Valentine. He raised his eyebrows.

“Do you want to tell me about your childhood?” Peter offered with a smile.

“Yes,” Val said wide eyed, and preening “if you’ll let me put my head in your lap and you stroke my,”

“I’m heterosexual buddy,” Peter reminded him.

“I was probably going to say hair,” Valentine said sidling up to the detective with a wicked smile and mischievous eyes. Peter laughed. “So Bella, want to tell me about your childhood while I stroke your,”

“Hair?” Peter finished.

“Was I going to say hair, no, no I wasn’t.” Val flirted, head tilted low, watching from behind his long lashes. “Hungry?” Val asked, holding up the Chinese. 

“If I say yes, are you going to twist my words into something else?”

“I’m incredibly flexible,” Valentine offered, with a seductive stretch, “but I would welcome your companionship while I savored the finest American version of Chinese food available.” Peter laughed and they took the cartons to the fire escape. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Valentine studied Peter’s profile as he ate, silent, untroubled, open, honest, safe. Val smiled at all the delightful verbs that came to mind. Peter’s eyes darkened for a minute lost in his own thoughts. 

“Bella,” Val teased, Peter looked and smiled, taking another mouthful of noodles. “Tell me about your childhood, I’ll keep my hands over here,” Val promised, showing his hands, and flexing his fingers. Then he continued to devour his own carton of stir fried vegetables. 

“I had a great childhood. Grew up in the suburbs, went to a private school, had great friends. Also do not murder my lovers,” Peter offered. 

“Oh well if there’s no danger I’ve completely lost interest,” Val said starring from under his lashes. Peter smiled, nodding his head.

“You’re persistent. What about your childhood?”

“Same as you,” Val smirked, with a trademark sly smile. They ate in companionable silence. Backstrom and the team returned victorious as Backstrom gleefully obtained a full confession from the suspect. 

“We drink,” Backstrom announced, leading the team to the nearest bar. Backstorm immediately dove into the closest liquor bottle, and everyone else exercised a little more discretion and sobriety. A few beers were had by most, but as the streets darkened, only Moto, Backstrom, Niedermayer and Valentine remained. 

“Moto, take me to Amy’s, it’s time for a booty call,” Backstrom announced, referencing his ex-fiance, and current head of the Civilian Oversight Committee, Amy Gazanian.

“I don’t think that’s a good,” Niedermayer tried to interject.

“No, No, Niedermayer, you are not allowed to think, no more with your brain and the stuff that happens in there, and then causes stupid stuff to come out of your mouth!” Backstrom shouted. He stood shakily. Moto shrugged helplessly. “Don’t wait up,” he told Valentine as he made his way to the door with his arm around Moto for stability.

Val and Peter stayed behind finishing their beers. “Think that will end well?” Val asked.

“I’m not allowed to think or use my brain and stuff.” Peter teased back. 

“How are you getting home?” Val asked.

“Cab, you?” 

“Bus, come on you can walk me to my stop, keep me safe,” Val said, grabbing Peter’s hand. Peter didn’t pull his hand away and Val tucked into him like two lovers heading into the night. “Careful I’ll get the wrong idea,” Valentine said, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter laughed again. “Look, I haven’t been completely transparent.” 

Val stopped and swung them up to the side of the closest building, He was pressed gently against Peter, eyes staring up hopefully, “tell me everything, was it college? Was it just a fling, did you say not-homo first so that it wasn’t really gay? Was it just a blow job? Hand job? A drag queen?” Peter laughed at the flurry of questions and excitement.

“No, none of those things. I am heterosexual. I’m not offended by homosexuality. I’m not embarrassed to hold your hand. I’ve just only ever been with women. I don’t think I find men attractive, if I did that would be okay though. It’s just that I date women.”

“But sleep with men?” Val asked with a wink.

“No, I never have.”

“I feel like there is a “yet’ at the end of that sentence.” Val said, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“If there was it wouldn’t be with you,” Peter laughed. Val stiffened immediately, and let go of Peter. 

“Well,” he said backing up in mock hurt, that masked a very real sting at Peter’s statement.

“No, Val, sorry. I’ve had a lot to drink, and it’s been a tough day, I didn’t mean it that way,”

“No it’s fine, why would you with me,” Val said with an eye roll, gesturing between them.

“No, I just meant because of how you are.”

“No that’s better, thank you for clarifying,” Val shrugged, the facade of fake hurt dissipating behind genuine insult and perhaps anger, “I think I’ll walk me and “my ways” home b0y myself,” Val said with pursed lips and whirled on his heel. A strong arm grabbed him, and spun him around. Peter kissed him, and Val forgot to be outraged and kissed him back, tongue hands, heat, all the good stuff he could muster. Peter broke off for air, and Val leaned against the wall smirking seductively.

Peter took a few deep breaths and didn’t move away. “I meant that you are very interesting and adventurous and I value our dynamic. But I’m given to understand that you are not a long term guy, and I’m not a short term guy. But also,” and Peter ran his tongue around his mouth and drifted into forensics mode,” I didn’t think kissing a man would feel like that. It’s not much different than a woman,” he started to explain. Val looked even more offended at that last bit.

“Then let me try again,” Val said, and this time he pushed Peter against the wall, kissed him, running his tongue over lips, nibbling slightly, Val itched to see if there was any reaction below the belt, but past experience taught him to go slow and steady. His fingertips stroked Peter’s pulse point, and Val nibbled down his neck, Peter’s head was pressed back against the wall, his eyes were fluttered closed, and he seemed to reel in the sensual exploration. The forensic expert was obviously very busy analysing data and Val intended to blow his mind. Peter, while not as talented at kissing boys, obviously was no slouch in the sensual department, he kissed back, cupping Valentine’s face, there was momentary hesitation as he encountered stubble, but he went for it. Peter did seem uncertain after getting to Val’s neck, undoubtedly he was used to dropping his hands down and cupping breasts by this point of foreplay. 

Peter broke off the kiss leaning against the wall sucking in air. “I didn’t know this would be so intriguing,” Peter said, and Val could picture him creating flow charts and logging data. 

“Want to see how much more I’m capable of?” Valentine purred, pressing his body seductively against Peter’s, his hands wrapping around Peter’s waist, his fingers pressing into his back, urging him closer.

“I kind of do,” Peter said thoughtfully. They fell into a cab and sat in silence, anticipation and sexual tension filling the space between them. Peter kept looking at him thoughtfully, like he was analysing the situation. It was a different from Val’s other conquests, Peter was clearly not undressing him with his eyes, not that Val would have minded. It was like watching someone realise sex is amazing for the first time. Peter wasn’t Val’s first first, by any stretch of the imagination. However, Peter was the first mature adult first he’d had that was not a client. Peter was controlled in the exploration, and eager. There was no fumbling and sheer youthful horniness guiding his steps. Peter didn’t seem timid, or shy for his first man on man make out session. He seemed confident, assured even when he fumbled. 

They spilled out of the cab and made haste to Peter’s apartment. Val didn’t spend a lot of time taking in the environment, it was neat, eclectic but well organized, Val tried to ignore the handful of expensive things he could easily offload for a small profit. But his eye did wander. Once inside, things did calm a bit and perhaps a bit of nervous energy fed between them. Val had always been a closer though. “Hungry?”

“If I say yes, will you twist my words and order Chinese food?”

“I’m very flexible,” Val promised, he leaned in and Peter met him halfway, tongues dancing, slow and fast, tasting exploring, pleasuring. Val’s hands found Peter’s waistband and started working on the buttons. Peter for his part, reached for Val’s jacket, pushing it down past his shoulders until it was on his living room floor. Hands touching body parts, the undressing dance to the bedroom. Each had lost their shirts, and Peter pressed Val against the wall leading to his bedroom, stroking Val’s chest and stomach with his hands, mirroring Valentine’s own touches against Peter’s flesh. Peter seemed to shift, stiffen a bit, as he continued to stroke almost absentmindedly.

“Cold feet?” Val whispered, nuzzling his neck. Peter seemed distracted, and Val looked at him, tried to look in his eyes, and realized that Peter was staring at a mark on his chest, and running his finger over one of the old cigarette burns hidden in his tattoos. “It’s just a tattoo.”

Peter squinted and looked at the spot more closely and Val huffed in frustration. “It’s clearly not, the blistering suggests,” Peter began to explain, and Peter was raking his eyes all over, taking in data, Val could feel the shift, he wasn’t with Mr. Let’s Explore Our Sexuality, this was Mr. Forensics. “I’m a forensic analyst, I see things, I can’t not know what they are, and those are cigarette burns.” Peter didn’t sound judgemental but as if he was processing the information. 

“So what,” Val shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“I just meant what I said, I’ve had a charmed life. I’ve never met anybody alive that had such obvious signs of,” Peter trailed off, taking in Val’s angry stare. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to say, I’m not judging you obviously anything that happened isn’t your fault. I just, normally when I see things like this it’s on a dead body, I don't’ know that I’ve met anyone.” Peter was babbling. 

“You can examine my body all you want for sexy fun, but not for forensic analysis, and besides I know what happened, I don’t need your interpretation,” Val said.

“I can’t turn it off, I see patterns, and I can guess how,” Peter closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “How old were you?” Peter asked.

“Old enough to know better.”

“And that one looks fresher, really recent,” Peter said noticing Val’s upper arm, and reaching out like he would examine it.

“Stop it,” Val snapped, he spun on his heel and went down the hallway, gathering up his clothes as he went.

“There’s more on your side,” Peter said curiously, following him. Val was furious, not at Peter, but at everyone. He felt tears prick his eyes. Fuck Trippi, fuck Piven, fuck everybody everywhere, except Peter, here, obviously. 

“Val, wait, stop,” Peter said as he pursued Val down the hallway. Peter covered his eyes. “Wait sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t help it, but just give me a minute okay. It’s hard to turn it off.”

“Not everything is hard to turn off,” Val mocked, putting his shirt back on. 

“Wait, just wait one minute.” Peter said patiently, he uncovered his eyes. “I knew life was rough for you, but I didn’t know it was that rough. As I said, all the people I’ve seen with scars like that have been on a morgue table, it’s easier to be detached, clinical, to analyse. I like to help, to find justice, I just it’s very real when it’s someone you know. I.” Peter ran a hand through his hair, and he came closer to Val, and put his hands on Val’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry that happened to you, and I’m sorry I went all forensics on you. It unsettles me that something like that happened to you.” Peter was calm and sincere. He wasn’t doing that whole pity that made Val’s skin crawl. Peter seemed genuinely embarrassed about his own reaction, and Val couldn’t see any condemnation in his eyes. 

Val looked down, and tried to get his anger and embarrassment under control. Most of his other lovers had scars of their own. The only other high polished men to see the scars, were just as likely to abuse Val as the men who put the scars there to begin with. This was new for Val and he didn’t like how he thought he looked through Peter’s eyes. Peter’s hands cupped Val’s face again, Peter looked him in the eye questioningly and then leaned in slowly, giving Val every chance to pull away or end it, Peter put his lips to Val’s, and lightly teased with his tongue, when Val opened his mouth, Peter heard him moan softly. Peter pulled back, kissing cheek, chin, neck, collarbone, chest, he helped Val slide his shirt back off, and deliberately did not look at anything that might distract him. 

“It doesn’t change anything,” Peter continued babbling, and he caught Val’s eyes, “and I hope my awkwardness doesn’t change anything either.” Val noticed a kindred spirit in that look. Peter was genuinely embarrassed about his own automatic reaction. “I do that sometimes, I check out and start analysing ‘evidence’” Peter shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a little why I get transferred, I notice inconsistencies in things. One of my bosses said that he was working on a difficult case, and that he had spent a lot of hours on it and had been up all night. He didn’t have bags under his eyes and the evidence was pretty straight forward, and I was peppering him with questions, and finally he admitted he was having an affair and why didn't I just shut the hell up. I got transferred,” Val kissed Peter then, sliding his tongue along Peter’s mouth. 

“I’ve examined my own evidence,” Val said breathily against Peter’s cheek, he licked his way up to Peter’s ear, and nipped at the lobe, then down his neck, his hand wandered to Peter’s waistband. “And I think all the evidence points to you wanting me,” Val said, Peter moaned low in his throat as Val’s hand plunged below the waist line, bypassed boxer shorts, and the back of his hand brushed the swiftly hardening cock. Hands and teeth tore at clothing, and they were both on the floor. Peter was leaning back on his elbows, when Val’s mouth found his cock. Peter moaned even more, his hands reaching out to hold Val’s head. Val stared from fluttered lashes as he went down again and again, tongue and light teeth. Peter moaned louder. 

“Being a man, must give extra insight,” Peter gasped, “this is the best blow job,” he panted. Val redoubled his efforts, and Peter was bucking beneath him, hands tangled in hair as he shuddered and moaned his orgasm. Val kissed his way up to Peter’s mouth as the other man panted and lay back. “That was amazing.” 

“Rumi would agree,” Val offered seductively, his own erection pressed against Peter as he kissed and nuzzled his neck. 

“I can,” Peter said, eyes narrowing as he analysed Valentine’s erection. Peter flipped him and Val, so he was over the younger man. Peter looked Val in the face, and there was no hesitation or shy uncertainty. Then Peter started his own trail down to Val’s erection.

“You don’t have to, there are many ways to,” but Val didn’t finish as Peter’s hands grasped him, Peter flicked his tongue and Val relaxed back. Peter continued to stroke and lick and suck, until Val orgasamed as well. Peter smiled confidently. 

“It wasn’t the best you’ve ever had,” Peter said without embarrassment, “but there is definite insight into being a male and knowing what feels good. It was also pretty easy to mimic some of your moves, and then to mirror them.” Val kissed Peter, hard, pressing his tongue in to taste every inch of his mouth, his hand cupping his face, pressing him tighter into Val’s hungry mouth. After a few minutes they both came up for air, sticky, sated, tired. They lay together in a jumble of a mess, as their breathing returned to normal. 

“That really helps,” Peter sighed. 

“I think you might be a little gay,” Val offered.

Peter laughed loudly, “A little,” he agreed..

They eventually made their way to Peter’s bedroom where Val showed off some of his many tricks. Neither of them brought up how Val dimmed the lights, or used the sheet to strategically cover portions of his body where a forensic analyst might be distracted. When they came down from their last romp, they were exhausted and ready for sleep.

Peter listened to Val’s steady breathing, and slight snore. He tried to be very still as he examined the mark on Val’s upper arm and tried to see the ones on Val’s sides. He itched to touch them and learn more. They were definitely fresher, like several weeks maybe a few months old. The others, were clearly many years old. So who had burned Val with a cigarette in the last few months, and why wasn’t Backstrom talking about it? No police reports had come in, Val had been off the radar of the local police since the Dante Trippi incident. 

Something wasn’t adding up, Peter tried to shut his mind off. When he was studying dead bodies, it didn’t seem like such a violation, after all he was trying to catch their killers. Val was still very much alive, and appeared to have zero interest in disclosing what had happened to him and who had done it. 

***

Peter was furious when he found out Val had cooked for Dante and had him over for wine. It wasn’t jealousy, probably, but Trippi had beaten Val up, why would he make a deal with that animal? Backstrom had threatened Trippi to stay away to keep Valentine safe, and Val decides to cook for him, alone in the barge. Peter couldn’t say anything during the investigation, he’d asked once to be Valentine’s security detail in lieu of Moto, and Backstrom had laughed and implied Peter wouldn’t be able to handle a criminal that had taken down Trippi. Backstrom made a joke about Peter’s sexuality and denied the protective detail. Peter couldn’t get Val alone, but it didn’t add up. It scared Peter and it angered him. Val could have cost them all their jobs. Peter knew Val was at times selfish, elusive, and most of that was simply good common sense given his upbringing. Val had come by his self-preservation honestly. 

Peter couldn’t tell anyone about Valentine, mostly because Valentine didn’t want anyone to know. He started to wonder if it was kept a secret so that Val could continue his own liaisons without Peter finding out. As soon as the sommelier was booked into custody, Peter intended to stop by the barge. 

Peter’s phone rang and he saw Backstrom’s number on the caller ID. “Yes, sir,” Peter answered. 

“Go to Trippi’s, toss his place, he was blackmailing a lot of people. We didn’t come across any evidence, figure out where he is hiding it. Bring it to the barge.”

“Yes sir.” Peter hung up and made his way to Trippi’s apartment. He hadn’t been there personally as he was needed elsewhere in the investigation. He felt tense going there, the place was empty, but an ominous feeling settled in Peter’s stomach. He also acknowledged that it may not be a Trippi issue, it may be a talk to Valentine issue. Their booty calls had been significantly impacted by Val’s 24 hour protective custody and all of Val’s phone calls were being monitored. Aside from occasional looks across an occupied room, they hadn’t been able to communicate. Val’’s eyes seemed apologetic, but Peter didn’t know what the apology was for. 

Peter made his way into Trippi’s space and tried to focus. Trippi blackmailed a lot of people, so a secret compartment somewhere was the most likely. The computers and electronics had already been cracked and they were clean. Peter began measuring objects, ensuring drawer length matched allotted space, looked for false bottoms, checked vents, light switches. 

Peter eventually found the evidence. He picked up the envelopes that had Gravely, Valentine, Paquet, Neidermayer, Backstrom, & Moto on them, and left the rest behind for someone else to retrieve. He knew exactly what files Backstrom would want at the barge and not booked into evidence. Peter noticed there wasn’t an envelope for Detective Almond. He didn’t open them, and brought them directly to Backstrom, who had clearly had a few beers before Peter got there. 

“Paquet, he knew it wasn’t her real name, but he didn’t know who she was,” Backstorm noted, tossing the envelope in the fireplace. “Photos of Gravely from her call girl gig, the angle is compromising. Not enough to cost her her job, but enough to impede it and embarrass her,” Backstrom tossed her packet in the fire. “A photo of Moto that appears to show him tampering with evidence,” Backstrom tossed the photo into the fire. Backstrom handed Neidermayer his envelope, and shrugged. Neidermayer put it into the fire unopened. Backstrom burned his own envelope which left the considerably thicker manilla envelope labeled ‘Gregory Valentine, Rent Boy’.

“I don’t think we should open it.” Neidermayer said, as Backstrom tore into it.

“It’s evidence,” Backstrom stated matter of factly, as Peter gave him side eyes as he glanced at the fireplace, burning all the other evidence. The envelope contained the case file from Valentine’s time with Piven, the man who abducted him and sexually assaulted him for 3 days. There were some statements, and photographs of a much younger Valentine. Backstorm didn’t review them again, and Peter tried not to see the images when he closed his eyes. There were various notes about different operations Valentine had going, wine, counterfeit shoes, stolen shoes, electronics equipment, drug deals, hustling jobs, fake celebrity signatures, a psychic scam and a few other ventures Valentine had been or was involved in. The file spanned several years. There was also a compact disc. “I guess Valentine’s file was getting too big, and he had to go digital,” Backstrom joked, but there was apprehension in his voice as well.

“Why are we going through this?” Peter asked, looking over his shoulder.

“If I don’t know what Val did, I can’t protect him from himself. I’d like to know what might be coming for him, and if there’s a way to manage it, I’d like to do that. He’s my brother.” Peter nodded in agreement. “Here, make this work,” Backstrom snapped handing the disc to Peter.

Peter loaded it into the laptop. “It looks like just a single video file, but it’s big.” 

“Boot it up, Valentine is probably bootlegging illegal movies, that’s pretty manageable at least, I hope it’s not gay porn,” Backstrom sounded relieved. 

The video keyed up and it was Valentine and Trippi on the boat. The video was being taken through the window leading up to the deck. Trippi was explaining the letter to Val with the EMT statement, and telling Val he was taking over his wine business.

“I’m starting to feel warm fuzzies, he just turned over his wine operation without arguing.” Backstrom laughed. Val really was protecting him when he said he was protecting him. 

Both men felt tense when Trippi backed Val into the corner, but he seemed to back off again, Val with his silver tongue often talked his way out of danger. They both jumped when Trippi suddenly and violently gripped Val by the hair and flung him to this knees. They watched the violence eb and flow, as it seemed Trippi had accomplished his goal and then he would circle back around and try to break Valentine down even further. 

“It doesn’t look like Trippis’s enjoying it,” Backstrom said, his voice devoid of emotion, as if he couldn’t process emotionally what he was seeing. Peter could empathize, it was horrible and the brain struggled to believe what it was seeing.

“He’s not,” Peter confirmed, “he’s just trying to hurt him,” Peter winced, as they watched Trippi violate Val over and over, and then press him down and burn him. They had both stepped involuntarily closer to the laptop, as if they could help Val. 

“I’ve never seen him panic,” Backstorm whispered, as Val went wild after the cigarette burns. “It’s horrific.” 

“The camera caught the angle of Val resigning himself to Trippi’s demand for orgasm, and attempting to pleasure Trippi, but the deadpan look in his eye as silent tears rolled down his face was gut wrenching. 

Peter shook his head. It was one thing to know intellectually that the world had bad people in it who did terrible things, but watching it play out, or experiencing personally and first hand, Peter shook his head, his eyes still glued to the scene unfolding. 

“He went through all of that, and I can’t even tell you what day it was,” Backstrom shook his head in confusion. “How did I not notice that he was off, he must have suffered, and there were no signs, he seemed fine,” Backstrom rambled a little, clearly trying to piece together the last few months for what he missed. 

“Don’t do it,” Backstrom whispered, jumping forward as he watched Val grab the handful of pills, “he could have killed himself,” Backstom mumbled as Val put some of the pills back. 

“Yeah,” Peter said, still stunned. 

Backstrom felt equally sick and the need to visit violence upon Trippi. The video was around thirty minutes and cut out as Val stumbled from sight. 

“How old is that video?” Backstorm asked in a monotone.

“A few weeks, maybe a few months,” Peter returned just as deadpan.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen the marks on his arms, I can tell.”

The front door to the barge came open and Val came bounding down the steps light footed, and practically skipping. Backstrom closed the laptop. “Is it my hair?” Val asked taking in both of their ashen expressions. He peered into the mirror at the bottom of the steps. “Of course not, hello Gorgeous, he smiled, and winked to his mirror-self “Seriously, what is wrong with you two?” 

Both Backstrom and Peter stood looking back and forth, and all over the barge, but barely being able to look at Valentine.\ “Did you guys drop some acid, or X, is this a bad trip? You are both looking really weird,” and he was right both Peter and Backstorm were looking all over and not at him or directly each other. 

“Get him out of here,” Backstrom barked suddenly, gesturing in Val’s direction, but clearly speaking to Peter.. Val looked taken aback and Peter looked startled.

“Why?” Valentine asked eyeing Backstorm suspiciously. 

“I have a hooker coming, you and Peter get out.”

“I don’t think I can,” Peter gulped. He knew Backstorm was probably overwhelmed and needed time to process before being alone with Valentine, but Peter needed a minute too. What was he going to say to Valentine. 

“You’re a cop, you can’t have hookers at the barge,” Val admonished.

“A hooker lives at the barge, it should be fine,” Backstrom snapped, and immediately regretted it,” former, I mean, of course.” 

Val crossed his arms, not appearing angry. 

“Just go with Niedermayer, or someone else, just go, she’ll be here any second.”

“I don’t think I,” Peter started to say.

“Come on buy me dinner?” Val teased. 

“Yes, buy him dinner and make him breakfast in bed, I need the place to myself,” Backstrom agreed, thinking that it was a joke of course, but needed Val out of the barge for the night. He couldn’t see him, couldn’t talk to him right now. Did he tell him about the tape or not? Backstorm was reeling with how to deal with this development.


	3. Secrets Tend to Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets do tend to surface, and change relationships, threatening them, strengthening them. It drives people apart or pulls them together. The secrets rarely matter, but how they are handled change everything, or help things stay the same.

“Rough case?” Val ventured, as he and Peter walked from the barge to Peter’s car. 

“Yeah,” Peter said stiffly beside him.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Val teased looking back at the barge. 

“No, Val, I can’t explain.” Val’s hand went to rest on the small of Peter’s back, and Val pulled Peter even closer to him. Val breathed deeply, letting his hands dance up and down Peter’s spine. Peter tried to return the hug, but there were images of Val being assaulted on a dining room table and Peter felt like hugging him might just be further assault and confinement. Peter felt like he didn’t know how to touch him, but didn’t want to hurt him either by rejecting him. Peter felt like he was betraying Val just having those images in his mind without Val knowing Peter knew. Peter was also keenly aware that he was the cause of some of that violence. Peter didn’t realize his breathing had become ragged and he was standing stiffly in Valentine’s arms.

“What is going on?” Val asked, smiling uncertainty, and clearly concerned. A case that shook Backstorm and Mr. Meditation must be big. 

“I,” Peter started and closed his eyes, big mistake because there were just more images playing in his mind. Peter flinched and turned away. Val pursued him.

“Hey,” he said with a wry grin, “Backstrom is getting some sexual healing maybe you should try it.” Peter stared at Val incredulous, he couldn’t have sex with Val after that, but he couldn’t tell Val that either. “Uh oh, this is awkward, are you heterosexual again?” Val asked, batting his lashes, and Peter’s eyes bulged as he let out a hysterical sounding laugh. “Come on, no more talking, just come with me and trust me.” Val said, tugging Peter’s hand. Peter wanted to warn Val that he shouldn’t trust Peter, but the words died on his tongue. Instead he followed behind Valentine and let the cool night air wash over him. He felt hot, and flushed, sick and nauseous and he needed some space to process. “Want me to drive?” Val offered. 

“No, yes, I,” Peter said. Val lightly grabbed Peter’s wrist, and plucked the keys out of his hands, Val kissed the palm of his hand. Val then snuggled in for a hug and a quick kiss on Peter’s neck. 

“I’ll drive,” Val said. Peter stood staring at him, and Val gave him a questioning look for a moment. Then Val walked Peter around to the passenger side. Peter felt like his mind was slogging through thick mud. Val’s hands were guiding him to the door and opening it. Peter sat, and he kept looking at Val and then away. Val reached across and did his seatbelt, and Peter just shook his head, closing his eyes. Val stroked his cheek for a moment, and then retreated to the driver’s side. 

Val mauvered out of the parking area, and then onto familiar city streets. He glanced at Peter, as Peter stared out the window. Val left him to his contemplation and didn’t attempt conversation. Peter isn’t sure when, but at some point Val had slid his hand over to his hold Peter’s. Val was lightly stroking, but not intruding. Peter appreciated the comfort and a warmth spread through, right before a wave of shame. Who had stroked Val’s hand after the assault, Peter strongly guessed no one. How dare Peter get comfort just for witnessing it, but he felt too selfish to let Val slip away. 

They arrived at Peter’s apartment and Peter’s pulse quickened again, he couldn’t go up there and romp with Valentine right now. Val felt his hesitation and let go of his hand and got behind Peter and pretend pushed him. “Come on, I promise I’m only scary under fluorescent lighting, just get me out of this garage and we will be fine.” Peter started thinking of ways to get rid of Val, or at least put him off. Peter felt like he could easily fake an illness as there was a good chance he was going to vomit. 

Val left Peter in the kitchen, and then appeared with a glass of water, and then disappeared again. Peter didn’t know what Val was doing, but he wasn’t chasing him around trying to disrobe him. Peter did remove his own tie which suddenly felt very tight and choking. He removed his jacket too, he felt confined, trapped. He tried not to even blink, every time he did there were images of Trippi and Val and pain, Peter ground his palms against his eyes, as if he could rub the images away. Peter tried to think of not mean excuses to get rid of Valentine, he couldn’t breath and he didn’t know how to talk to Val right now.

Val came back in and once again fake pushed Peter to the bathroom. “Come on, you need to relax.”

“Val, I can’t,” Peter started. Val stood in his robe and put his hand against the wall one eyebrow raised. “I am beautiful, young and horny, I’ve never and will never have to force myself on someone - so clearly uninterested- in devouring all of this ” Val gestured to his body. “Now, stop thinking with your brain and letting stupid things come out of your mouth, and just trust me.” Val escorted Peter into the bathroom where some candles were lit and a bath had been drawn. 

Val reached for Peter’s buttons and a pained look crossed Peter’s face. Val stepped in, and stroked Peter’s face, kissing lightly at his jaw. “Just relax,” They didn’t speak anymore as Val, undressed Peter. Val’s touch was light and caressing instead of his usual hungry and sexual hands. Val pushed Peter towards the tub, and had him step in. Val stepped in behind him, and brought them both into the water. They soaked in silence, just small sounds of the water everytime Val moved. Peter started to relax with his back pressed into Val’s chest. Val’s arms were wrapped around Peter, and Val’s hands were caressing arms, chest, neck, face, and there were small unobtrusive kisses here and there, but no attempts at arousal. 

Peter stared for a long time at a spot across the room, but eventually Val’s soothing took hold. Peter closed his eyes then, and rested his head against Val’s chest, he let himself float in the large tub, and Val stroked his hair, and kissed his temple. Val made no move to seduce Peter, or talk to him, and slowly Peter was able to breath in and out, releasing some of the tension, blocking out some of the images. He would occasionally wince if a particularly violent image came to the forefront of his mind, and a small sound not quite a whimper would escape as he tried to push it away. Valentine didn’t ask any questions, just stroked Peter’s hair, nuzzled his neck, held him tightly, traced circles on his skin, and eventually Peter felt like he could breathe again. Eventually Peter’s brain didn’t feel like jello. He wasn’t sure if he should open his eyes, but he turned his head and could feel Val’s breath against his face. 

Peter licked his lips and opened his eyes and stared into Val’s dark eyes. “Hi,” Val whispered, continuing his tracing and massaging. Val looked at ease, lounging against the tub, nothing like...before. 

“I’m not telling you something,” Peter said painfully. Smiling, Val kissed his eyebrows, and cheek.

“I don’t tell you lots of things,” Val offered in a low whisper.

“This thing though,” Peter said, “I.” 

“I don’t have any relationships based on truth, just on trust. We tell each other what we need to know, and we trust each other not to hurt each other intentionally. You have my back and I’ll have yours when we can, deal?” Val whispered in a conspiratorial tone, as he kissed Peter on the nose, cheek, forehead, “you can keep your secret.”

“You really don’t want to know?” Peter asked. Val shrugged.

“I’ve always found if you ‘have’ to tell the truth, it’s not usually something people want to hear.” 

“You’re kind of good at everything.” Peter said, tension melting away. 

“I know, aren’t you lucky to have me,” Val preened, and bit his tongue in a playful flirty way. They lay there, not talking, just touching, and pressed against each other. They stayed until they were pruny and the water cooled. Val dried Peter and himself off and they made their way to the bedroom. Val didn’t try to initiate any sexual activity which had to be a first. He just bundled them into bed, and they laid together for long moments. Peter didn’t think he could sleep, even though he was exhausted. He watched Val watching him, unobtrusive, allowing Peter space to think, to cope, to fall apart and put himself back together, and just offer quiet support. No demands, no intrusion, just acceptance. Peter reached out to hold Val’s hand, and Val entwined their fingers, lightly kissing the back of Peter’s hand. 

Peter suddenly felt an urgency to connect with Val, he reached out and Val matched the shift instantly, they collided in the middle of the bed, on their knees, kissing, Peter urgently, devouring, and Val let him lead. Peter felt the desire to just touch and be touched, to pleasure Val and while he may not have as much experience as Val with sex or with men, he was an expert in human anatomy and what caused pleasure and pain. He could sense Val going for all of the sweet spots, so he gently put Val’s hands at his sides, he slipped his hands into the robe Val was wearing, putting his hands on Val’s collarbone, and tracing the outline, cupping his face and kissing him. Val’s hands came up to rest on his biceps. “What are you after, what do you need?” Val asked huskily, so much promise of pleasure in his tone.

“I need to know what brings you pleasure,” Peter answered, nibbling his way down Val’s jaw line. 

“Easy enough,” Val acquiesced, guiding Peter’s hand towards his waist.

“No,” Peter said hoarsely, “not what brings you to orgasm, we will get here, I promise, but what brings you pleasure,” Peter continued to let his hands explore, lightly, finger pads tracing the different lines on Val’s body.” 

“Like handcuffs and kink,” Val ventured staring at Peter from behind his long lashes. Peter smiled mirthlessly, and kissed Val again, slowly, tasting him, his tongue dancing long his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth gently, letting his teeth nip. 

“We can definitely tie each other up and drip candle wax later if you want,” Peter promised, but I just want to experience you, experience pleasure with you.” Peter willed Val to understand. Val arched one eyebrow and shrugged, he didn’t seem to get it but he didn’t try to rush Peter along. Peter pulled Val into him, and Val straddled Peter as Peter wrapped his arms around him kissing him, his chest, his stomach, his hands splayed against Val’s back pulling him close. It wasn’t so much gentle as it was slow and sensual. Both men were aroused, but Peter kept them from rushing headlong into orgasmic bliss. He wanted to worship at the temple of Val’s body. He pushed Val back on the pillows, the robe was still on Val’s shoulders, but it was mostly open. Peter took it all in, and noticed all the ways Val’s body mirrored and differed from his. Peter put one hand on the curve of Val’s hip and and the other behind his knee. 

“What do you have in mind?” Val half asked, half invited. 

“Just tell me what feels good,” Peter said, he stared at Val, as he stroked the back of Val’s knee.

“Mmm,” Val moaned, “that feels nice, but probably not going to lead to orgasm,” Val offered, keeping his hands behind his head. Peter nodded, his mouth replacing his fingers, stroking his way up Val’s inner thigh, lightly massaging, and feathering his hands across Val’s body. Peter deliberately worked his hand down the curve of Val’s hip tracing a line that caused his wrist to brush against Val’s cock, but without stopping to touch Val’s cock. “You know,” Val said a little breathlessly as Peter continued his onslaught of light touches, firm touches, stroking, massaging, licking, nipping and suckling every part of Val’s body except his cock. Val’s hips kept involuntarily shifting to be closer, but other than a light touch or stroke, Peter focused on other parts of Val. “This is nice,” Val said with something akin to a purr,”but you know I’m a sure thing right?” Peter smiled and as he continued licking and tasting Val’s stomach. Peter did then let his hand drift to the base of Val’s cock and slowly wrap around, gently pumping. Val’s breathing quickened, and Peter licked and tasted the head, firmly applying pressure and pleasure. 

Val’s hips rocked, thrusting into Peter’s hands and mouth, but Peter retreated again, and Val shuttered and gasped. “What about pleasure,” he reminded with a giddy laugh. Peter pushed Val onto his side and used teeth and tongue to trace a path over Val’s buttocks to the small of his back, one hand still stroking Val’s cock and the other massaging Val’s back and lower thighs, “Oh,” Val moaned as Peter worked his mouth up to the back of his neck, tasting and nipping at his collar bone, his hand traced the curve of Val’s ass, and then withdrew. Val felt Peter reaching away - likely for the night stand condoms and lube- the only form of overnight bag Val could commit to. Peter was quick to wrap and had both hands and mouth back on Val, Peter continued his onslaught using one hand to guide his cock in, and then it returned to Val’s hip, pulling him back, slowly to sheath his fully erect cock. 

Val let him have his time, as pockets of pleasure were exploding all over his body, his skin felt electric, buzzing with sexual energy, every nerve ending on edge, wanting to be touched, but there was one increasingly demanding organ that needed attention. Peter was deep, thrusting, with one hand on Val’s cock, stroking as he thrust in and out - Val’s eyes rolled at the dual pleasure, and still Peter’s mouth was at Val’s throat, and Val could feel the hickey already forming, pleasure rippling through his cock, ass the sensual trail Peter was making with his hand and mouth. Val exploded in ecstasy and he felt Peter jerking behind him, holding him closer, his hand draining Val and then wrapping around him, his mouth still making lazy sensual circles on his jaw, mouth, and neck. “Hmmm,” Val tried language and nothing really came out.

Val let his eyelids flicker open and he caught Peter staring at him, with such adoration, Val smiled, and pushed back further into Peter’s chest. Val felt quite content, warm, worshipped. Val tensed for just a moment as a distant memory of the last time someone had looked at him almost like that. He pushed it away quickly, and of course Peter noticed, given that they were touching at every available square inch of flesh they could and still be two separate people. Val carefully controlled his breathing and waited for Peter to comment, he could feel the question hovering between them, but Peter just started kissing him again, “Tell me if you want.” Peter offered, and Val just snuggled tighter and let himself drift away. 

Peter held him close, grateful and horrified of his own depravity. Val should not have been comforting him. Peter shouldn’t have watched that video, he should have given the packet to Valentine instead of Backstrom. A part of Peter understood that there were other people being used against Valentine in the tape, he just wished he wasn’t on that list. What would that have changed? Val would have still gotten hurt, but what Peter wouldn’t be responsible? It was like a knife in Peter’s gut and he did let himself stare at Val’s fresh cigarette burns, each one seared into Peter’s psyche and he couldn’t think of a way to make it right. Peter lay awake staring and chastising himself in his own, mind, at some point exhaustion overwhelmed him and he drifted to sleep.

***

Val slunk out of the apartment in the early hours. He needed to check on Backstrom, something was definitely wrong with him and Peter. Peter was however, much healthier to manage such stress. Val hoped it wasn’t another girl that was abducted. Val helped himself to Peter’s wallet and nicked his credit card. He used Peter’s credit card to catch a cab, he figured he wouldn’t mind. When Val got to the barge, Backstrom was passed out on the floor snoring loudly, beer bottles new and old on the coffee table. Val noticed the dining room table was smashed and half burned in the fireplace, and a laptop was smashed on the floor. Well if Backstorm had tried to surf for porn that would explain some of the violence, Backstorm was barely electronically literate. Val picked up the laptop to see if any of it was salvageable, and he heard a cd clinking around inside of it. Val popped the cd tray and saw a gleaming gold rewritable disc, his face darkened. Emblazoned in black script was his name and Rent Boy. Val sucked in his breath and went to his room where hopefully his laptop was not destroyed. Headphones in he had the obscene privilege of rewatching the now dead Trippi torture him all over again. Val snapped the disc in half. He came out of his room as Backstrom was stirring. Val sat on the steps, until Backstrom roused himself.

“Rough night?” Val asked, his usual mirth clearly diminished. 

“Yeah, how about you?” Backstrom said with a dry parched voice. Val rolled a bottle of water over to him, and Backstrom smirked and started in on one of the half empty bottles of beer on the table.

“ Problem with the table?” Val asked nodding to where a portion of the table remained and a trail of it’s broken pieces led a path to the fireplace. 

“We never eat at it anyway, haven't in months, more room,” Backstrom answered, “When did we stop eating there anyway.” Val could have told him the date. 

“And the laptop?” 

“I don’t even know whose that is,” Backstrom said, “stupid thing wouldn’t download any porn.” Backstorm said settling against the the coffee table, rubbing his face. 

“I’m guessing you did load some porn,” Val said holding up the two disc halves. “You know throwing a laptop doesn’t destroy it’s contents right?”

“Clearly, I did not know that,” Backstrom acknowledged. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Val demanded. 

Backstrom laughed a humorless sound, “Why didn’t you just tell me?!”

“Are you happier knowing? Is there any part of you that is better off for knowing this, or having seen it?” Val demanded storming across the room, and throwing both halves of the disc in the fireplace. “Did everyone see it?” 

Backstrom chugged the rest of his half empty beer and searched for another. “Just me and Niedermayer.” 

“The whole thing?” Backstrom nodded. “Did you have fucking popcorn, why the fuck would you watch the whole thing. What possible value could there be, Trippi is dead.” 

Backstrom shrugged. “ What possible value was there in,” Backstrom trailed off. “I accused you of seducing him, and you didn’t even flinch. I wouldn’t have said that,” Backstrom shook his head. 

“So what, you didn’t know and I have certainly had worse said to me.”

“I don’t want you to do anything like that again,” Backstorm said. Valentine laughed a humorless sound, rubbing his head in frustration.

“Okay, bucket list amended, thanks for the tip,” Val shook his head, pacing in the barge. “I don’t want this to be a thing, okay? Just forget about it.”

Backstrom laughed again without humor. “Forget it, did you see the video.”

“Yeah I saw the fucking video, I starred in the Goddamn video, I know how it ends.” 

“Where was I?” 

“Well I hope you weren’t running the camera,” Val said flippantly.

“Did I even notice, did I see you that night or the next day. Even Neidermayer noticed the new burns.” 

“Don’t, there was nothing you could have done then except kill Trippi, and sometimes problems take care of themselves,” Val shrugged. 

“Did it happen again?” Backstrom asked.

“Did you find a volume 2?” Val volleyed back. 

“Did it happen again?” 

“No.” 

“I don’t know if you’re telling me the truth.”

Val shrugged, “it doesn’t matter if I am or not. I’m telling you no.” 

“In the video,” Backstrom started, “I don’t want you protecting me.”

“How much do you make a year?” Valentine asked.

“Seventy, plus benefits,” Backtrom shrugged.

“I think of it as my most profitable trick ever, 70 grand for all that,” Val teased in a not particularly funny tone.

“That’s not funny,” Backstrom said as he threw a beer bottle in Val’s general direction, clearly not intending to hit him.”

“It’s a little flattering when put in that light,” Val shrugged.

“Stop it,” Backstrom ordered. “Are you okay?” Backstrom asked, clearly not meaning the beer bottle.

“I’m always okay,” Val offered with an arched eyebrow and a smirk. 

“If you’re in trouble, ever,” Backstrom started, and his voice caught as a pained expression crossed his face.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough,” Val said waving his hands out to ward off any further conversation. “I’m okay,” he said again. 

Backstrom started to take a step towards him, arms open like he was going to try a hug. “I’ll kick you in the fucking jaw,” Val warned with an arched eyebrow. Backstrom shrugged and dropped his arms. 

“We will never speak of this again,” Val said, and did his and Backstrom’s air handshake. Backstrom reluctantly returned the shake, clearly still concerned. 

***

Val grabbed a change of clothes and cabbed back to Peter’s. That conversation was going to be more difficult, Backstrom at least had some encounters with the personal dark side of the moon, but Peter didn’t seem to have that same level of darkness. It was different, and Val flashed to the video, oh what a treat that was to get to see it all over again. His stomach rolled at the thought of Peter watching it. What did Peter even think? 

Val snuck back in the same way he had snuck out. Peter was still sleeping, but he’d worked his way all the way across the bed to where Val had been sleeping. Val stripped quickly, and slunk onto the bed, with the bottle of champagne he had confiscated from the fridge. He set it aside, and quickly dove under the covers, his lips wrapped around half hard morning wood, and his fingers grabbed bass and played like the musician he was. Peter woke, with a moan and he reached for Val’s head, as Val worked his tongue darting, suckling, licking, tasting Val saw Peter jerk his hand back reluctant to put his hands on Val’s head or tangle them in Val’s hair as he had done many times before. Val lowered his lids and set to work on orgasm. Peter wasn’t a hard target especially half awake and strung out on nightmares and low self esteem. 

Val swallowed and suckeled as Peter tried to protest, before throwing his head back. Val uncorked wine as Peter mellowed from his orgasmic fall. Val poured them each a glass. Peter didn’t seem to be a 7am drinker, but Val was compelling, and fed him sips between kisses, tongue and exploration. After he got half the bottle in Peter, he finally acknowledged Peter’s attempt at conversation. 

“I have to tell you something,” Peter said, obvious misery wracked his voice. Val kissed his mouth, and let his tongue explore, stopping Peter from talking out loud. “Valentine, just let me,” Peter said as Val’s tongue attempted an unnecessary tonsillectomy.

“Peter,” Val rasped against his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have to tell each other anything,” Val whispered. “I have your back and you have mine, all the other details are just things that make people fight and hate each other for inconsequential reasons.”

“It’s bigger than that,” Peter protested.

“When people orbit each other, they get sucked into the atmosphere sometimes, it’s not personal,” Val offered. 

Peter let the thoughts and recriminations eat at him. Mentally flogging himself seemed to alleviate some of the guilt he felt. He stared at the burned flesh. There were no other signs of the assault. Val didn’t show any, Peter tried to remember what he was doing the day it must have happened. Was it a good day? Was there any part of him that sensed danger or harm? Did he even spill coffee on himself that day. Had he seen Val? Tears pricked his eyes and he let them fall, he was in touch with his feelings and felt that it was important to experience the full range of emotions. He didn’t even care if Val saw, but not these tears. 

Val sat up in the bed, and quickly put Peter’s head in his lap, stroking his hair. Of course with Val, there may have been another reason to have Peter’s head so close to his lap. Val wrapped his arms around Peter hugging, kissing, stroking. He didn’t say anything or ask anything. 

“Someone got hurt because of me,” Peter whispered.

“No one can get hurt because of you,” Val said, “people get hurt because of themselves.” Peter tensed.

“This thing I’m referring to the person doesn’t deserve,” Peter defended. 

“Very few people deserve to get hurt,” Val offered.

“If you knew,” Peter said softly, “If you knew who I meant.”

“I know you mean me,” Val said with side eye and a smirk I know about the video you and Backstrom watched. Peter jerked up to look Val in the eye.

“When did you know?” Peter asked, shame eating away at him, did Val know that the bath, the hair stroking, all of it was to comfort Peter after seeing the tape, forget about Val actually experiencing it. 

“Trippi was an asshole, and he was good at maintaining his hold on people. If not me, if not that, then someone. 

“It’s not okay,” Peter interjected.

“I didn’t say it way okay. It was fucked up, illegal, immoral, cruel, you name it. It is however over with.”

“How can you be,” Peter started to ask, but then just gestured to Val. He didn’t know how to describe Val’s attitude.

“I’m not okay with it, but it did happen. It’s not my fault, it’s Trippi’s but I can see where I made some choices and would have chosen different if I knew things were going to end that way for me.” Val explained, a bit of shame in his voice. Peter shook his head.

“I can’t, this is a big deal Valentine.”

“Of course it is, but it’s also an over deal,” Val offered, grabbing Peter’s hand making little bite marks on his palm. Peter pulled back. 

“I don’t know how you live with this,” Peter said.

“You think I should kill myself?” Val joked. Peter’s hands came up fast to grasp Val.

“No!” he said firmly. “I just don’t know how you’re so together.”

“It’s not my first time,” Val offered.

“That just makes it worse.”

“Look if crying about it would change things, I’d do it.”

“It’s not okay.”

 

“Of course it’s not, but that doesn't change that it does happen. Look, listen,” Val took a deep breath,” I can’t undo what has happened,’ Val said, setting back on this knees. “I can’t stop what any of them took, but I can stop them from taking anymore. I choose not to dedicate any part of my mind to them, or allowing them anywhere into my life.” 

“Just like that?” 

“No, it took years of violence, drugs, alcohol, and a few overdoses to develop this coping mechanism,” Val laughed, a little bitterness seeping into his tone. 

“We could have gone after him.”

“The problem took care of itself,” Val shrugged, “and you and Backstrom aren’t in jail, or off the force. No one got hurt.”

“No one?” Peter whispered.

“No one else got hurt,” Val amended. Val put his finger under Peter’s chin and turned him, so he could see Peter’s face. “I don’t want anymore of my life, or yours dedicated to things Dante Trippi did. All that matters is us, here, right now.” Val kissed Peter, long, deep, nipping at his lips and tongue. Peter returned the kisses, and his hands flew to Valentine, holding him tight. 

“I really like you,” Peter whispered. 

“You’re so gay,” Val laughed, pulling Peter down on top of him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you got this far, you probably realized my beginning comment about having a soul was an exaggeration, perhaps you would leave a comment anyway :)


End file.
